


Sunday

by miss_whimsy



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Family, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 03:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14633610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_whimsy/pseuds/miss_whimsy
Summary: An average Sunday for Robert and his family.





	Sunday

Sundays were sacred to Robert.

He remembers the way Sundays used to be when he was a kid. His dad would do whatever was needed around the farm, with Robert and later Andy helping out where they could, and then he’d take himself off to the pub for a couple of pints. His mum would cook the dinner and Robert would watch, fascinated as she bustled around, somehow mixing up the most perfect Yorkshire puddings every week.

Once they’d all eaten, his dad would fall asleep in his armchair, snoring into the Hotten Sunday Gazette and he and Andy and Sarah would curl up on the settee and watch the afternoon film. Sarah would make their tea as soon as The Clothes Show finished and as a treat they were allowed to eat it in front of the TV, which it was, even if that meant watching the Antiques Roadshow. Jack would go out to feed the animals and Robert and Andy would have their baths.

Mondays meant school or work, and responsibilities.

Sundays always meant family.

The family had changed many times over the years, but now here he was at thirty-two with a family of his own and Sundays had lost none of their magic for him.

This particular Sunday started with a lie in.

Robert woke, wrapped cosily in Aaron’s strong arms, their legs tangled together under the duvet. He could feel Aaron’s breath warm and steady against his neck and he sighed happily, snuggling backwards slightly before deciding to roll over. Aaron murmured a protest at being disturbed, but adjusted his position until they were lying nose to nose, his right leg thrown over Robert’s left hip, curled around each other once again. Robert pressed soft kisses against Aaron’s lips and cheeks and chin until Aaron was fully awake, smiling widely even with his eyes still closed, pulling Robert in for a proper good morning kiss.

Down the hall they heard Liv’s door open and then Seb’s, and then the careful thunk, thunk, thunk of her carrying him downstairs. These days she seemed determined to wrest the title of favourite aunt from Victoria by feeding him and spending weekend mornings watching whatever passed for children’s telly nowadays, with a still half-asleep Gerry.

“Bacon sarnies this morning?” Aaron asked around a yawn, stretching one arm up over his head.

Robert hummed in agreement, like bacon sandwiches weren’t a Sunday morning tradition. “Yes, please.”

“You’ll be making them then, lazy bones,” Aaron laughed, stealing another kiss when Robert tried to protest.

He did end up making breakfast, while Gerry did a round of tea and Aaron popped to the shop for the Sunday papers.

Around eleven, Gerry headed out to take Tip for a walk, mumbling something about a quick pint in the pub after. Liv brought her homework down and spread out across the living room floor to do it where Robert could help her while Aaron cooked Sunday dinner.

Robert hadn’t been joking when he’d complimented Aaron’s skills with a roast. It was probably Robert’s favourite meal of the week and the whole experience of watching Aaron make something for his family was part of the fun.

As always, Robert offered to help but was waved away and soon his time was occupied by Liv asking about her trigonometry homework and keeping an eye on Seb who was learning to push himself up and soon, Robert had no doubt, he’d be off like a rocket, crawling around faster than Robert could keep up.

They ate as soon as Gerry got back from the pub, Robert complimenting Aaron on the Yorkshire’s he’d made from scratch.

“I can’t believe how perfect they are first time.”

“First time?” Liv laughed. “This is probably attempt number fifty. Vic’s been teaching him.”

“Yeah, the first ones were burnt,” Gerry added. “They set the fire alarm off in the pub. Charity were fuming.”

“When was this?” Robert asked, laughing as Aaron shook his head.

“Thursday,” Liv said. “You were out drinking with your coven.”

“Liv…”

“I know, I know,” Liv muttered. “Bernice doesn’t mean it. I still don’t forgive her.”

“Me neither,” Aaron said. “But, since you two weren’t supposed to tell him about the burnt ones, you can do the washing up.”

Seb went down for his nap after dinner and Liv went out for some afternoon loitering with Gabby and Jacob, while Gerry went off to to his room for a nap. Robert and Aaron ended up stretched out together on the settee to watch the last disk in their Bourne collection. Aaron was lying mostly on top of Robert and eventually he fell asleep, his soft snores making Robert grin against his hair.

Sunday nights weren’t exactly the same as they used to be. Liv wouldn’t let him watch the Antiques Roadshow anymore; she said it was boring. He wouldn’t trade his morning showers with Aaron for a evening bath now, not unless Aaron could somehow fit in it with him.

But the feeling was the same as it used to be. He felt the same sense of love and belonging he’d felt as a child, before things had fallen apart and he’d lost his way.

“This is all I want,” he whispered against Aaron’s forehead now.

“Hmm?”

“You’re all I want,” he clarified. “All of you.”

“Even Gerry?” Aaron asked, sounding mostly asleep but still amused.

“Maybe,” Robert confessed. “Sometimes. Not permanently though.”

“Good luck with that.”

“I thought you were asleep.”

“You’re the one talking to me,” Aaron said. “Being all soft.”

“I’ll shut up then,” Robert said, rubbing Aaron’s back to take the sting out of his words.

“Don’t be daft.” Aaron wriggled slightly, sliding his cheek across Robert’s chest and leaning up to kiss his neck. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t.”

They didn’t pay much attention to the film in the end, torn between dozing together and sharing slow kisses, their hands sliding under their clothes to find warm bare skin.

It was as close to perfect as a Sunday could be.


End file.
